


Future-Perfect-In-Past

by Veldeia



Category: Doctor Who, Torchwood
Genre: Episode: s04e03 Planet of the Ood, M/M, Timey-Wimey, Weevils (Torchwood)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-03-13
Updated: 2009-03-13
Packaged: 2018-03-31 00:05:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3956944
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Veldeia/pseuds/Veldeia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dead Weevils and an unconscious Doctor amount to a mystery more challenging and less straightforward than usual for the Torchwood team.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Future-Perfect-In-Past

_Future-perfect-in-past tense refers to a time that is in the future, relative to another point in the past, but is in the past relative to a point in its future. All these points in time are in the past relative to the moment of utterance._

-http://www.sil.org/linguistics/GlossaryOfLinguisticTerms/WhatIsFuturePerfectInPastTense.htm

  


* * *

  


**1.**

"Just got a call from Andy," Gwen Cooper said, leaning on the door frame at Jack's office. "The police've found another Weevil. Same as the first one, not a scratch on it. Definitely not a new Fight Club."

Jack frowned and stood up. "Great. Obviously retconning anyone is pointless now, if even more are going to show up," he said, already on his way out of the room, into the main area of the Hub. "Owen, you done with the autopsy yet?"

"Sorry, unlike for certain others, dying didn't give me superpowers," the medic grumbled from his workspace. "Working as fast as I can here. No sign of any sort of trauma so far."

"Jack!" Tosh called out from her computer console. "Registering some really weird rift activity."

"Could it be related?" Gwen asked, as they hurried over to see for themselves.

"Well, obviously, something's killing those Weevils..." Jack fell silent as he saw the screen. "But it's not that." He knew that energy signature. More than knew it - he loved it. "Gwen, Ianto, you go check that dead Weevil. I'll handle this."

He didn't waste time thinking, let alone explaining, but ran straight to the SUV and headed towards the coordinates at top speed. It had been far too long since Jack had last seen him - they hadn't met since that year that never was. No way he was going to let this chance slip through his fingers.

The first thing he spotted once he reached the site, a small parking lot, wasn't a police box like he was expecting, but an ambulance. It couldn't possibly mean a thing, it had to be a coincidence. Still, he couldn't help feeling worried as he hopped out of the car and ran forwards.

There were two medics crouched on the ground near the ambulance, around a man lying flat on his back, a lanky man with brown hair, wearing a brown trench coat and a pair of white sneakers.

"Doctor?" Jack called out.

"No doctors here, just us paramedics," one of the ambulance crew answered him.

"He is," Jack said. The Doctor didn't react at all, his eyes were closed. He was obviously unconscious, if not worse.

The other paramedic was peering at the screen of a portable defibrillator, his face scrunched up in a confused frown. "The ECG's all over the place, never seen anything like it, but no way that's a life-sustaining rhythm. I'm going to shock him. Stand clear," he said, and raised the paddles over the Doctor's bare chest.

Jack leaped forwards and pushed him away, shouting, "No, wait!" and even managed to avoid getting electrocuted himself in the process.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" the medic hissed.

"Captain Jack Harkness, Torchwood. I'm taking over from here."

"I don't care if you're Her Majesty the Queen, mate, this man's dying and needs our help."

"Yeah, well, I wouldn't be so sure about that, mate," Jack said, emphasis on the last word, probably sounding much more carefree than he felt.

He knelt by the Doctor's side, placed both palms on his chest, and grinned and chuckled out of relief. Yeah, definitely not dying, just confusing the hell out of the paramedics' equipment. Jack could feel two strong heartbeats beneath his hands, perfectly steady, if a bit slow.

"I think he's going to be all right. You guys just head back home, I'll take care of him."

"But he's..."

"No buts. Off you go. Shoo!" He waved his hand, stripped the medical stuff off the Doctor's unmoving body, and lifted him in his arms.

The Doctor stayed out for the count as Jack carried him to the SUV and manoeuvred him to the front passenger seat. Jack couldn't get any kind of a response out of him, no matter how hard he tried. He shook the Doctor, slapped his face and shouted at him, and after a short mental struggle, even ventured to kiss him on the lips - he could always claim it was rescue breathing, after all. Still no response. Even though the Doctor's vitals seemed stable, and he didn't even look paler than usual, this completely lethargic state was alarming. He rarely stayed unconscious for this long. What could've done this to him? Had he come to Cardiff to ask for help?

Jack really didn't want to take the Doctor to Torchwood, since the two didn't exactly mix. The Doctor disapproved of Torchwood, and Torchwood's files still listed the Doctor as a dangerous and unstable individual. Still, he clearly needed help. It wasn't as if Jack had a whole lot of choice.

**********

That was it, Owen was done. He was more than done, really. He hadn't just finished the autopsy of the Weevil, he had even double-checked several things, but he still had no idea of how the poor beast had died. His list of possible causes included things like a poison that left no trace, or some form of radiation that wouldn't show up in scans. A fat load of good that was. He could just as well say that the Weevil had been killed by magic.

He felt a vague echo of empathy as he closed the container, putting the corpse away. Ever since the Weevil Fight Club incident, he'd felt somehow connected to these things, and now they even considered him their king. Maybe they had something in common - except that no, they didn't. He shook his head at himself. He had absolutely nothing in common with any living creature, and the only thing he had in common with this particular Weevil was that they were both stone dead. Damn, how he hated this half-life. No sleeping, no eating, no shagging. All work, no play. His job was almost the only thing he had left, these days, and right now, it completely sucked, too.

He was about to start typing out his mostly non-existent report about this case, when Jack returned, and headed straight towards the medical area. He was moving a bit awkwardly, carrying a grown man in his arms. A pretty one, too, of course, with long limbs and thick, messy brown hair - and either comatose or dead, by the looks of it. Jack set him gently on the examination table.

"Okay, what have we got here?" Owen asked. "Fell through the rift? Conveniently fainted so that you'd have to sweep him up in your arms? Or got hit by the same thing that's killing Weevils?"

"I don't know. It's your job to figure that out," Jack answered tetchily. "Anything new on that Weevil?"

"For all I can tell, it was struck down by the hand of God. No determinable cause of death," Owen said, checking the mystery man's pulse as he spoke. "A bit fast for an unconscious bloke."

"Actually, for him, that's a bit slow," Jack said.

Owen raised his eyebrows, glancing at Jack. "Don't tell me he's an alien."

"Oh, yes, he is."

Owen let out a sigh. Why was it never nice and easy? "You know him?"

"Yeah."

"You sleep with him?" he asked casually, working on running a basic full-body scan now.

"Is that medically relevant?"

"Could be. You never know."

"And if you have to know, the answer's no. Never." Jack's answer was far more sober than Owen would've expected. Clearly, he really was worried for this alien friend of his.

"Well, there's a surprise. There's got to be something seriously wrong with him, then. Do we have any data on his species?"

"Not really, no."

"Right. I just can't win. Anything useful you can tell me?"

"Not much. He's got two hearts -"

"Thanks, I can see as much, so doesn't really count as useful," Owen said, staring at the screen, where the preliminary results of the scan were starting to show up. The physiology was alien, all right, but he could figure out the basics. The only trauma he found was a superficial head injury, just a bump, nowhere near serious enough to cause such profound unconsciousness, as far as he could tell. A mystery, like the Weevils, except that this alien wasn't dead.

Owen had just finished taking a blood sample, when the alien suddenly opened his eyes - big, brown and human-looking. He took one glance at Owen, and let out a startled yelp, eyes wide. He tried to back away, with the result that before either Jack or Owen had time to react, he crashed to the floor. He tried to stand up, but his legs didn't seem to support him too well. Instead, he stayed on the ground and moved away on all fours until he hit the wall.

"Doctor?" Jack said.

"Huh?" Owen said. Jack never called him that.

Jack didn't answer, just crouched in front of his alien friend, placing a hand on his shoulder, and peering at his face. "You all right?"

"Yes, fine, as always. Hello, Captain," the alien answered, sounding cheerful, but his eyes were still on Owen, his expression tense. "Jack, did you do that to him?"

"Oh, well," Jack said, looking a bit embarrassed - a look Owen didn't think he'd seen on his face before. "I guess you could say that, yeah."

"But he's even worse than you are! He's dead!"

"Oh, thanks for pointing that out, I hadn't noticed myself," Owen said acidly. He was already sick and tired of hearing stuff like that, and he seemed to be getting it from at least half the aliens and other creatures they ran into.

"Doctor, meet Doctor Owen Harper," Jack introduced him. "Owen, this is -"

"Doctor Smith," the alien said. "John Smith. Hello."

John Smith - as if that was really his real name, Owen thought, but decided not to push it, when Jack was obviously such good mates with him. The alien gave Owen a wide, almost child-like smile, which failed to completely hide the unease in his eyes. He stood up, looking perfectly steady on his feet now. Jack put an arm protectively around his back, nevertheless.

"And that's Toshiko Sato," Jack added, pointing out Tosh, who'd appeared by the railing, staring at the alien curiously. "Welcome to Torchwood Three, Doctor," he said, and drew a wide arc with his free hand, gesturing at the surroundings.

"Torchwood, Cardiff. Of course. What time is it?"

"Around noon."

"Right," Smith said slowly, looking intently at Jack, as if waiting for more.

"March 2008."

"Riiight. How did I end up here?"

"I carried you," Jack began, sounding like he wasn't exactly sure whether he was answering the right question. "You were lying on the street, unconscious. Someone had called the emergency services - I had to rescue you from an over-eager ambulance crew. Can you remember what happened?"

"Oh yes, of course I can, but it's not much. I'd only just stepped into the street when someone knocked me out. Never saw them coming. It's strange, though. How come I didn't wake up sooner? Must've been more than just a blunt instrument," Doctor Smith said, rubbing at the side of his head. "There was a blunt instrument involved, I'm sure about that. But what else..." He lifted his hand in front of his face, licked his palm, and spent a moment smacking his lips, as if assessing the taste. "Hm, it's almost as if... But nah, it couldn't possibly be..."

Owen stared at the alien, not knowing whether to be amused or concerned. If he'd had to venture a guess, he would have said that the man had gone nuts, but Jack was looking at him in an affectionate way that didn't show the slightest hint of worry. Apparently, this was normal behaviour.

"Aah, but you took a blood sample!" Smith said enthusiastically, looking at Owen, his eyes lit up.

"Yeah, but I never got to analysing it."

"Well, you wouldn't have known what to look for, anyway." The alien held out his hand, beckoning with his fingers for Owen to give him the test tube. "Come on, come on."

"I'm really not taking orders from you."

"Owen, just humour him, all right?" Jack said.

Owen humphed, shook his head, and handed over the blood sample. The alien took the tube, opened the seal, smelled at the contents, and then poured a few drops on his forefinger. This time, Owen wasn't surprised when he put it in his mouth.

"But it is!" the alien exclaimed, apparently returning to his earlier train of thought, grinning like he'd just discovered the cure for cancer. "Carambola juice! That's clever!"

"Carambola juice," Owen repeated. "Right. Great." Either the alien was far more alien than he looked, or then he really was bonkers. Most likely both.

"Carambola?" Jack asked. "What's that?"

"Carambola, also known as star fruit, Averrhoa carambola in Latin - oh, that's very clever. Very, very clever," Doctor Smith said, but then, his gleeful expression faded into a frown. "In fact, it's a bit too clever. There's only one person in the whole wide universe who knows that carambola juice concentrate acts as a sedative on me, and that person is... Me."

  


**2.**

There were no other Time Lords left, no one who knew the few odd substances that had unexpected effects on him, but surely, he couldn't have done this to himself. He hadn't seen the attacker, so technically, it was possible. He could go back in time and hit himself in the head, but that would not be a good idea. Since the universe wasn't unravelling around them at the moment, he was pretty sure he hadn't done that.

Of course, there was the other, part-human him, but he was in the alternate universe, with Rose, forever separated from this world. Donna would've known, too, for that short while when she'd had the mind of a Time Lord, but that was gone now. Besides, it wasn't really "now", because at this point in time, none of those things had even happened yet. Not to mention that he couldn't imagine why they would've wanted to do this to him, even if it wasn't impossible. Why knock him unconscious only to leave him there for Torchwood to find?

Rose and Donna. Thoughts too painful to linger on. He needed to stick to the present. Keep running, as always, because it was the only way to keep himself sane.

"Could this be what killed the Weevils?" Jack suggested.

"I doubt it," the dead man, Owen, said. The Doctor tried to avoid looking at him. He was something so twisted and unnatural that it almost made him feel physically sick. To say that it'd been a shock to wake up to that sight would be a huge understatement.

"What's a Weevil?" the Doctor asked.

"This is. Cardiff's resident aliens." Owen pulled out a container from the wall, revealing a corpse: an alien with thick, pale brown skin, a sloping forehead and large fangs. Not a species the Doctor was familiar with.

"If it's the same thing, would it have shown up in your tests?" Jack asked.

"Not when I wasn't looking for it," Owen told him, tapping on the computer to open a file. "Anyway, we're talking about a fruit you can buy from the nearest grocery store. It's not exactly poisonous, unless you eat a lot of them and are suffering from kidney failure."

Jack raised his eyebrows at the Doctor.

He shook his head in answer, looking at the test results, a crude but true analysis of the alien's blood. "Completely different metabolism. Nothing wrong with my kidneys, and no, it's not what killed your Weevil, either."

Jack's mobile bleeped, and he put a hand to his earpiece. "Ianto? Oh, okay. On our way." He looked at the Doctor and Owen. "Gwen and Ianto are at the station, and the police just got a report of another body, a slightly different case, by the sound of it. Violent death."

Gwen and Ianto. The names were familiar - the Doctor had met them, but even though it had been in his past, it was still in the future for everyone else. They hadn't met him yet, and they couldn't. He had been aiming for early 2009 and had ended up in early 2008 instead, so he'd missed his mark by one year. Hardly unusual for him, but it meant that he'd have to be very careful, or things could go badly wrong.

"I want to see this for myself. You sure you're all right now, Doctor? And not in any danger?" Jack went on.

"Yes, I'm fine. Carambola isn't exactly poisonous to me, either, just puts me to a deep sleep. Interesting fruit, that star fruit. Anyway, thanks for all your help, but I think I should get going now. If you could give me a lift?"

"Sure thing. Owen, Tosh, let's go."

The Doctor followed them to the Torchwood SUV, contemplating Jack's two team members. He knew Jack had lost two of his team during a crisis not long before the Daleks had stolen Earth. Apparently, it was these two - the Doctor had never seen Owen before, and as for Toshiko Sato, he had met her once in his previous regeneration, but never since. There was nothing he could do to help them. Sad as it was, the truth was that where Owen was concerned, it was a good thing. He really wasn't supposed to be alive anymore, his timeline was supposed to be at an end already. 

Unless... Maybe someone had wanted to bring the Doctor to this time and knocked him out because they wanted him to save these two - but no, he couldn't. Tosh and Owen would die, in circumstances that had nothing to do with him, and he could not intervene. Better to leave this time and place before he made a mess of things.

"I'll just drop you off where I picked you up, that OK? Your ship should be nearby," Jack said.

"Yes, very good."

"So, that rift anomaly, that was actually you, wasn't it?" Tosh asked, sounding impressed.

"I use rift energy as fuel," the Doctor admitted.

"That's amazing! Of course, there's a massive amount of energy in the rift, but to be able to harness it like that - the ship must be extraordinary."

"Oh, you have no idea. She's unique," Jack said warmly.

Once Jack had parked the car, he told Owen and Tosh he'd be back in a minute, and stepped out with the Doctor. The Doctor didn't recognise the place, but Jack lead him around the corner to a familiar-looking parking lot. The TARDIS stood at the far side of it. Doctor could even point out the exact spot where he'd blacked out, right there, next to that red car.

"It was good to see you, even just in passing," Jack said, his hands on the Doctor's arms. "You sure you don't want to stay a little longer? Figure out who attacked you?"

"I'll have to do that on my own. I can't stay here, Jack. I'm from your future. I could cause terrible damage if I did. But I'll be seeing you, sooner or later."

"The future, eh?" Jack repeated, nodding slowly. He looked at the Doctor a bit oddly, probably taking in the fact that he was all alone and hadn't as much as mentioned any companions. "Hope everything turns out all right. Take care." Jack gave the Doctor a quick, tight hug, and walked away.

The Doctor headed towards the TARDIS, his hands in his jacket pockets, searching for the key. He couldn't find it. He stopped in front of his ship, and went through every single spacious pocket in his clothing. Nothing. No key, no spare key, even though he always had at least one of those hidden somewhere. No matter. The TARDIS would let him in, she knew him. He pushed at the door, but it wouldn't budge. He even tried snapping his fingers, silly as it was. Nothing. The door stayed shut.

He noticed that someone had stuck a Post-it note on the door. He picked it up. It was written in an unfamiliar hand that, based on his knowledge of graphology, he judged to be female. At least that made it clear that he hadn't done this to himself, unless he'd regenerated into someone with girly handwriting. Or a girl - oh no, no way, he thought, in a mental voice that rather sounded like Donna.

He shook his head at himself, and read the note. It said,
    
    
    Sorry,
    You need to stay a while longer.
    Don't worry, you'll get your keys back,
    once the time is right.

The Doctor crumpled the piece of paper, stuffed it in his pocket, and ran back to where Jack had parked the car, but of course, it was too late. The Torchwood team had already left.

**********

Containing this case was going to be a nightmare, Ianto thought, as he and Gwen shooed away the police team who'd arrived at the scene first. Half the Cardiff Police Force had either seen a Weevil, or heard about them by now. Torchwood might have to resort to putting retcon in the water supply once again, something none of them were too fond of doing.

"It's different, all right," Gwen said, kneeling by the body. The signs of violence were obvious on it. The other two Weevils had been physically unharmed but dead, this one had bruises and scratches all over its body and bloodstains on its coveralls.

"Oi! Give room for the expert," Owen called out, pushing them aside to get a better view of the corpse. Jack and Tosh followed right behind him. "Finally, something nice and easy. Cause of death: got in a fight and had its neck broken."

"The real question is, who or what broke it," Jack said.

"And here we go again," Owen complained. "Can't tell without an autopsy, and might not be able to tell at all. Might've been a human. Can't have been another Weevil, since there are no fang marks. This could be just an isolated, unrelated case," he suggested.

"We've got three dead Weevils within a day, there's no way this can be unrelated," Jack said. "Owen, Tosh, see what you can find out about this one and pack it up, we'll need to transport it to the Hub. Ianto, Gwen, with me, we'll go search for clues."

Ianto looked around. They were in a narrow, silent side alley, probably the second most common type of place for this sort of thing, derelict warehouses being even more common. Jack headed straight for the manhole and wrenched the cover open.

"Weevil-hunting in the middle of the day. This feels wrong," Ianto noted.

"Not Weevil-hunting," Jack replied. "Weevil-killer-hunting. Anti-Weevil spray, tranq guns and sidearms at ready? Off we go!" he said, and leaped into the hole.

It was dark and quiet down there, as always, every day, every time of the day. As they pointed around with their torches, they saw a trail of purplish blood beginning at around the entrance, leading deeper into the tunnels.

"So, what did we miss?" Ianto asked Jack in a low voice, as they followed the trail. "That rift anomaly?"

"Just a visit from an old friend. Nothing you need to worry about."

"Some friend, huh, to appear through the rift," Gwen said.

"Shh!" Jack said, stopping in his tracks, gesturing at the junction some ten feet ahead of them. The blood trail disappeared into the left-hand tunnel, and they could hear a low growling, definitely not a typical Weevil sound.

Jack lead the way, pointing his torch around the corner. Almost instantly, he leaped backwards, hurriedly motioning at the others to retreat. An alien followed him, taking running steps.

The creature was unlike anything Ianto had seen before: humanoid, about the size of a Weevil, with somewhat similar skin, but instead of a mouth full of sharp fangs, it had a mass of tentacles. Its eyes gleamed a fierce red in the dim light.

The next few seconds were chaotic. They were all shooting tranq darts at the alien, and Jack was shouting, trying to reason with it, but none of it seemed to have any effect. Without warning, the alien raised its hand, holding a white orb of some sort, and placed it against Jack's head. Jack was instantly enveloped in a bright flash of lighting, groaning in pain. That must've been what had killed the Weevils - an alien energy of some sort. Explained the lack of an obvious cause of death.

Ianto didn't think about what he was doing. His hand grabbed the pistol as if with a will of its own, and pointed it over Jack's convulsing shoulder, straight at the alien's forehead. He pulled the trigger.

Both Jack and the alien collapsed to the ground, purple blood and who knew what alien brain matter splattering over them.

After several seconds of what would've been silence if not for the deafening echo of the point-blank gunshot echoing in Ianto's ears, Jack sat up, gasping. "Thanks, Ianto. Now, let's get out of here before anything else shows up."

Hauling the corpse through the corridors and up and out of the manhole was a tedious task. Luckily, they were able to do it in peace, with no more angry creatures attacking them. They loaded the dead Weevil and the dead unknown alien into the back of the SUV and drove back to the Hub.

Half an hour later, Ianto returned to his desk at the Hub's back entrance, showered and changed. He did his best to hang on to the thoughts of warm water and Jack's even warmer body against his, because he didn't want to think about what he'd done before that. He'd shot that alien in cold blood, without hesitation - but he'd done it for Jack. He couldn't stand watching Jack in pain. And the alien had obviously been dangerous. He'd done the right thing, even Jack had said so. Hold on to the pleasant thoughts. Jack's hand in his hair, wandering down along his spine...

Ianto was yanked away from his happy place when the door opened, letting in a tall, thin man dressed in brown, his brown hair sticking up in all directions. "Hello, sorry, I'm looking for Torchwood. This is the entrance, right?" he said.

Ianto sat up straight and peered at the man, carefully keeping his face blank. "I'm sorry, sir - Torchwood? What's that?"

The man frowned at him, his lips stopping in a pout before he went on to say, "Oh. I know you. You're Ianto Jones. Oh, no. No, no, no. This is bad."

  


**3.**

For some reason, when Ianto called and said, "Jack, I think you should get over here, quick," Jack's first thought was that it had something to do with the Doctor. Worry for Ianto only came second. Luckily, his first hunch was the correct one. He ran to the entrance, and found the Doctor pacing to and fro, both hands in his hair, with Ianto staring at him, arms crossed, bemused.

"Didn't expect to see you again so soon," Jack told the Doctor. "Of course, soon is relative. How long's it been for you? A day, a month, a year?"

"I never left," the Doctor said, sounding miserable, letting his hands fall to his sides. "Someone took my keys. Couldn't get inside the TARDIS. It's like someone's forcing me to stay here, for some reason, and I shouldn't, I really shouldn't." He pointed at Ianto. "When I first saw him, in your future, my past, he hadn't met me yet, but now he has. It's strange, though. If this has caused some sort of a temporal disturbance, I should feel it. There's nothing. Then again, maybe it builds up slowly. You never know. They can be really sneaky, those temporal phenomena."

"Or maybe this hasn't caused anything. Maybe this was always meant to happen," Jack said, giving the Doctor a reassuring smile. It was, after all, entirely possible that the team would meet the Doctor and then forget about it. Not that Jack was going to say it aloud in this situation. "Right now, I'm more worried about the first part of what you said. Someone stole your TARDIS key?"

"The key, and the spare key, too. Must've taken them when I was out cold. Obviously, they weren't after the TARDIS, because she's still there. They even left a note saying that I'd get my keys back later." He stopped and cast a suspicious glance at Jack. "Just wait a moment. I blacked out, and the next thing I knew, I woke up here. You don't have anything to do with this, do you?"

Jack froze and stared at the Doctor in disbelief. "You think I'd do that? Steal from you and lie to you, after all we've been through together?" he said, struggling to keep his voice level. He could almost feel Ianto's curious gaze on the back of his head.

The Doctor grimaced, shook his head and ran his hand through his hair once more. "No, of course not. I know you can be rather obsessive, but no, I don't think you would. I'm sorry. I just can't make heads or tails out of this mess. I wasn't even planning to be here in the first place, and now I seem to be stuck."

"Obsessive, eh?" Ianto said, softly but sarcastically.

Jack chose to ignore that for now. "Maybe you really are stuck here for a reason. We've got three dead weevils and an alien that doesn't resemble anything in our databases. All these things could be linked, and even if they aren't, we could still use some help."

"Well, I really only came here to refuel and I really shouldn't even be here, so..."

"Come on, Doctor! It's a mystery, don't tell me you're not curious!"

"Oh, you know me, Captain Jack Harkness," the Doctor said, grinning. "Let's go see your unknown alien. But as long as I'm here, if you, or any one of your team, or any of your instruments pick up anything unusual, anything at all, let me know instantly."

The moment the Doctor set eyes on the dead alien, the smile disappeared from his face. He ignored Jack's questions, Owen's complaints, and Gwen, Tosh and Ianto staring at him, just crouched close to the body, and placed his hand on the alien's head, next to the bullet hole.

"That's a gunshot wound, from one of your pistols," he said, turning to look at the team accusingly. "Torchwood, with all your guns. He was already wounded - that's a claw mark on his calf. Why did you kill him? Which one of you did this?" the Doctor asked, his voice taking up a serious tone which revealed that darker side of him he usually kept hidden.

Jack should've had the presence of mind to make it clear to the Doctor in advance that the unknown alien was dead because of them. Still, the Doctor was taking this even worse than he'd expected. By the looks of it, he must've met this alien before, or at least one the same species.

"Jack, I -" Ianto said, an almost desperate, apologetic look on his face.

"You did what you had to do, Ianto," Jack said firmly. "Doctor, my team killed him, so I'm responsible. No need to blame anyone else. We don't go around executing aliens, this was self-defence. The alien was aggressive, and it had already killed three Weevils. We had no choice -"

"There's always a choice," the Doctor said sombrely, nailing Ianto with his eyes regardless of Jack's words. "Maybe this really is why I'm here. I'm not here to help you, I'm here to protect the ones you're up against."

"We only want to help them, as well. Please, if you know him, tell us what's going on," Gwen said, leaning over the railing, her expression full of empathy. "Who is this alien, and why has he been attacking others?"

"He's an Ood, and he's very, very far from home. Must have fallen through that rift of yours, confused, afraid and lost, not to mention practically lobotomised, even before some stupid, murderous ape put a bullet through his remaining brain."

"All right, that's enough, Doctor. We need to talk this through in private. My office, now," Jack said, gesturing at the stairs. "Ianto, you better come with us. The rest of you, just - keep doing whatever you were doing. And if there's anything unusual, let me know right away."

He lead the Doctor to his office, and Ianto closed the door behind them.

"Right, I shouldn't have done that, I know," the Doctor said. "Got carried away. I should be keeping a low profile to minimise the risk of a temporal disturbance, instead of picking up arguments - but what else would you expect? You killed an innocent being. I can't just stand and watch when you -"

"We do not do this every day," Jack said slowly, emphasising every single word. "Besides, you can't know for sure that he was innocent."

"I only shot him because he was hurting Jack," Ianto added, looking desolate.

"And if you hadn't shot him, what would've happened? It's not like Jack was in any real danger," the Doctor said.

"Hey, even though I can't die, I'm not immune to pain," Jack remarked. He placed his hand on Ianto's back, and ran it over to his shoulder, to let him know that he wasn't about to start accusing him of anything.

"If you have to pick between someone suffering and someone dying, the right choice is obvious," the Doctor said relentlessly. "You would've survived. That Ood didn't."

"Look, Doctor. I know you don't approve of our methods and style, but if you're going to stay here, you've got to work with us, not against us. We're not bad people. The team's young, but they're good, and they're getting better every day. Give us a chance, all right? We'll solve this case together, and you'll see."

"Oh, I've already seen how good they are. Well. All right, I'll give you your chance, but on one condition. The next time we leave this base of yours to go to the field, you only bring non-lethal weapons."

**********

"Okay, seems I've missed a lot of stuff. Anyone care to tell me who that man is, exactly?" Gwen said, sitting down on the stairs once Jack, Ianto and Doctor Smith had gone.

Tosh still stood behind the railing, staring after the three men. She couldn't claim she knew a whole lot herself, either. She had only heard and seen half of what had happened when Jack had first carried his alien friend into the Hub, and that had left her with more questions than answers. Still, there was something oddly familiar about this Smith. Tosh couldn't point a finger at it, but she almost felt as if she had met him before.

"He appeared during that rift anomaly we picked up earlier today," Tosh told Gwen. "Apparently, his ship runs on rift energy. Owen?" she asked, figuring he probably knew more than she did.

"I'm as much in the dark as you are," Owen said, leaning on the autopsy table, holding a scalpel, but not actually doing anything. "He's an alien, and Jack acts like he's his best mate. Introduced himself as Doctor John Smith, though what his real name is, I've no idea."

"Doctor Smith? Jack didn't call him that, not once. And if they're such good friends, isn't it a bit weird that he never used a first name, either?" Gwen said thoughtfully.

"Yeah, Jack just kept calling him Doctor all the time," Owen said, nodding. "Which I found a little odd."

"You're right. Doctor. Just the Doctor," Tosh repeated slowly, realisation dawning in her mind. "The Doctor - but he can't be. I've met him, and he looked different." Still, now that Tosh thought about it, that was exactly why this Doctor felt familiar to her. She had worked with the Doctor briefly, a few years back, during the Slitheen invasion, and there was a similarity. A slight one, but enough to be noticeable.

"Just the Doctor? Who's that?" Gwen asked.

"The Doctor? You can't be serious," Owen said, put down the scalpel, and walked to the nearest computer terminal to bring up a file. "The Doctor, one of the most mysterious and most powerful alien entities known to regularly visit Earth," he said. "Latest certain sighting at the Battle of Canary Wharf, when he was captured by Torchwood One, but escaped."

Tosh walked down the stairs to join him and Gwen, peering at the screen. "Known aliases include John Smith," Tosh read aloud. "Is known to be able to change his appearance. There's no picture."

"Most importantly, there's that," Owen said, pointing at a few lines highlighted in red. They announced that the Doctor was considered dangerous, and was to be apprehended on sight.

"He didn't seem that dangerous, though," Gwen said, frowning at the screen. "And Jack clearly trusts him."

"What if he doesn't, not really?" Owen said. He turned away from the computer to look at the two women, his arms crossed. "It could be some sort of mind control. Makes me wonder what the three of them are doing in Jack's office right now."

"Why isn't he controlling us, then?" Tosh asked.

"Who knows." Owen shrugged. "Maybe he's still working on it. Or maybe he doesn't find us important enough. That's kind of the picture I got, stupid apes and all that."

"Still, it could be the other way around. Maybe Jack's already got a plan, and is playing friends with this alien for a reason," Tosh said.

"Anyway, what do you suggest we do?" Gwen asked Owen. "By the looks of it, Jack isn't about to let us detain him. Besides, aren't we being just as bad as he told us we are? Plotting against him just because we don't know him?"

"Getting to you, too, is he?" Owen said, glancing at Gwen dubiously. "I suggest we do the one thing we can: stay on guard, ready to act if anything fishy happens. Keep a close eye on both Jack and this Doctor. Ianto, too, since he seems to be in on it, as well. And we obviously can't let them know we've figured this out." He hit a few keys to close the file.

"I wonder if the Doctor was telling the truth about this alien," Gwen said, and walked over to the corpse. "Ood, that's what he called him."

"I'm not sure we can trust a word he says," Owen replied, following her.

"I can't see what he'd gain by lying," Tosh remarked. "The Doctor's been helpful before."

"He could be behind this all! Maybe he sent the Ood to kill those Weevils."

"Owen, that's ridiculous," Gwen said. "You saw how he reacted to this dead alien. You really think he's a killer?"

"If he really is the Doctor, he's a killer, all right. Now, I'd better finish this autopsy. I'll check for any signs of mind control while I'm at it."

Tosh headed back to her workstation, and started going over the recent rift activity. There, that was the big anomaly that had marked the Doctor's arrival. Earlier in the morning, there were a few more spikes, so small that they were well within normal range, possibly when the Ood had appeared.

Before Tosh got any further than that, Gwen called out "Oh, no!" from her desk. "They've found another body, but this time, it's not a Weevil. It's a man."

Gwen ran to Jack's office, and half a minute later, returned with him, Ianto and the Doctor.

"All right, people. Let's get going. And leave your guns - that's an order. We're doing this one his way," he said, nodding towards the Doctor, who smiled, looking about as dangerous as a puppy.

From the corner of her eye, Tosh saw Owen shake his head ever so slightly, and hide his sidearm inside his jacket.

  


**4.**

The body was still warm when the Doctor and the Torchwood team arrived at the scene. Judging from the dead man's clothing, he was a maintenance worker of some sort. Owen quickly declared that since there were no signs of trauma, the most likely verdict was death by Ood.

The place wasn't far from where Torchwood had found the latest dead Weevil, so it was just within the realms of possibility that the dead Ood had killed this man. Possible, but unlikely, especially since the Ood were extremely sociable and altruistic beings. They were never alone, if they could avoid it. It was far more likely that there were more than one of them around, which meant that even though the Doctor had failed to save one Ood, he might still be able to do some good. Ood, good. That rhymed nicely.

"Over here," Ianto shouted.

The Doctor turned around, and saw the young man motioning at a rectangular hole in the ground, its cover resting nearby.

"Well, what are we waiting for, then?" the Doctor said, walked over, and started climbing down the rusty rungs into the depths of the sewers, ignoring Jack, who was telling him to wait, and issuing orders to his team.

He reached the concrete floor, and took a few steps into the darkness around the patch of sunlight shining in from above. Before he'd managed to find his torch from his pockets, it struck him - the Ood song, but unlike he'd ever heard it before. This was not the sad, wistful hymn of oppressed slaves, but a sound so raw with desperation, fear and loneliness that it felt like cold hands were tearing his hearts out of his chest. He leaned on the wall, and bowed his head.

He couldn't really tell how long he stood there. Only when Jack's warm, steady hand grasped his shoulder, he was finally able to snap out of it, doing his best to shut out the song.

"Doctor, what's wrong?" Jack asked, shining his torch right into his face.

"Can't you hear it?"

Jack frowned, and closed his eyes. A pained expression crossed his face, he shuddered, and shook his head forcefully. "I bet I can't hear it half as well as you can, but even that's almost too much. What the hell is that?"

"That's them, the Ood, unfathomably far from home, one of them already dead," the Doctor said softly.

Jack let out a sympathetic sigh. "I'm sorry, I had no idea."

"Yes, I know you didn't. That's why you should think before you shoot. The good thing is, since we can hear them, we should be able to track them down easily." 

The Doctor found his torch, and started walking towards the source of the unsettling sound. Jack stayed close by, with Tosh and Gwen following him. Apparently, Owen had stayed behind to examine the body, and Jack had ordered Ianto to remain above ground as well, which was probably for the best. Perhaps the Doctor had been too hard on Ianto - the young man had seemed genuinely sorry and clearly troubled by the fact that he'd shot the Ood, and he had only done it because of his feelings for Jack. Then again, maybe not, the Doctor thought, concentrating on the song again. Maybe not.

As they walked on in silence, he tried to work out what he was going to do once they found the Ood. He couldn't even know what period of time these Ood were from until he met them. The dead Ood had had a translator sphere, which meant that he had worked for humans, but whether he was a slave, or one of the many that had been liberated when the Doctor and Donna had visited the Ood homeworld, he couldn't tell. That detail might make a world of difference on whether or not he'd be able to reason with them. The one thing he knew for sure was that these Ood were so far away from their hive brain that their behaviour might be completely irrational. He'd just have to hope for the best, and improvise.

Estimating distances based on the volume of a telepathic song wasn't exactly easy, and far sooner than the Doctor would've expected, the beam of his torch fell on the back of a humanoid being facing away from them, at the far end of the tunnel. As the light hit the alien, he turned around, revealing that he was indeed one of the Ood, with the red eyes telling that he was going berserk. He started walking towards the Doctor. Another Ood appeared from behind the first one, joining him, looking equally frenzied.

The Doctor spread his hands, palms facing backwards, to keep Jack and his team behind him. "Fall back," he whispered to them. "Let me handle this."

"I really hope you know what you're doing," Jack muttered, and stayed much closer than the Doctor would've liked. Of course, the truth was, even though he had a vague idea of what he was doing, he had no idea of whether it would work.

"Hello!" he shouted at the two Ood. "It's all right. I'm a friend. I'm here to help you."

The two aliens kept moving, slowly but determinedly, their faces showing no trace of intelligence, let alone emotion. The Doctor couldn't risk actually listening to the song, but as far as he could tell, it was unchanged.

"It's all right," he repeated, making his voice as steady and as friendly as he could. He put his torch on the ground and held out his hands, upturned palms towards the Ood. "I'm unarmed. I won't hurt you. I'm a friend. You may have heard of me. The Doctor, that's who I am."

The Ood were still approaching, barely twenty feet away from him now.

"Doctor?" Jack whispered behind him.

"I'll tell you to run, if we have to," the Doctor answered, not changing his tone at all, and turned his attention to the Ood again. "The Doctor. Doctor, Donna, friends, have you heard of them?"

The Ood stopped in their tracks, so close to the Doctor that he could've touched their tentacles if he had reached out with his hand. They blinked slowly, their eyes fading from red to the normal, lighter colours.

One of the Ood held out its translator sphere. Both Jack and Gwen called out a warning. The Doctor raised a hand and made a sharp "Shh!" at them. They could ruin everything!

Luckily, the Ood only tilted their heads quizzically. "You are not the Doctor-Donna," one of them said, in the unnaturally polite tone of the translator device.

"No, I am not," the Doctor admitted, with a pang of regret. "But I am the Doctor. I'm a friend of the Ood. Please, let me help you."

"Can you bring us the Doctor-Donna?" the second Ood asked.

"I can't. I'm sorry." The Doctor shook his head. "But I can help you, if you let me. I know you're lost and afraid, but it's going to be all right."

"Help us," the first Ood said.

"Help us," the second one repeated.

"Yes, I'll help you. Everything's going to be all right. Now, tell me, how many are you? Just the two of you?"

"The others are not with us," the two Ood answered almost simultaneously.

The Doctor frowned. That could mean anything. "Your people are far away, yes, but who's us? Are you singing this song, or are there others nearby?"

"The others are not with us," one of the Ood repeated. The two aliens turned around, and started walking away.

The Doctor faced the Torchwood team. "You'd better stay here. They don't trust you, it's not safe - for you or for them."

"Like I'm letting you go after them on your own," Jack answered. "Gwen, Tosh, stay in sight, but keep your distance."

There was no time to argue, so the Doctor let it go and turned to follow the Ood. The song was growing even louder inside his head as they walked, so piercing that ignoring it was getting impossible. He was half afraid he might just fall apart and burst into tears any minute, but he plodded on, unable to keep track of the turns they took, barely aware of anything but the song and the backs of the two aliens ahead of him.

Eventually, the two Ood stopped in front of a small doorway leading to the right, to a maintenance space of some sort.

"The others," the first Ood said.

"They are not with us," the second Ood said.

Not knowing what to expect, the Doctor stepped forth and pointed the beam of his torch into the room. It wasn't big, maybe ten foot by ten. Two Ood were cowering in the two back corners, curled up - two completely free, natural Ood, holding their hind brain in their hands.

He walked closer. "Hello? I'm here to help," he said, but the two Ood didn't react at all. The song, their song, was now so loud that he couldn't even hear the sound of his own voice.

The Doctor crouched next to one of the Ood, studying his face. His eyes were closed, and he was perfectly still. The Doctor touched his arm softly, but the Ood still didn't move. Instead, he thought he heard a new note in the song. "Help us," it said. "Please help us."

"I will," the Doctor whispered. He retreated from the room.

"The others are not with us. Help us," the two Ood with translator spheres pleaded.

"I will," the Doctor repeated. "I'll take you home, I promise."

The problem was, it was easier said than done. Before he could do anything at all to help the Ood, he'd need to get his TARDIS key back, and that was a whole other mystery. He'd have to solve it as fast as possible, since he didn't know how long these Ood could hold on.

"What's going on with them?" Jack asked. The Doctor could see that his face was tense with the effort of fighting back the strong emotions the song evoked.

"It's a long story, I'll explain later. We should return to the surface now."

"Wait," Gwen said. She and Tosh were standing right behind Jack now, despite the earlier orders he had given them. "We can't just leave them here. They might kill more people."

"They're not killers, they're just desperate and confused," the Doctor said.

"But you've got to admit they're dangerous," Jack said.

The two formerly enslaved Ood had stepped into the maintenance room, joining their two unresponsive brothers. The Doctor walked back to the doorway to address them. "Will you stay here if we leave?"

"The others are not with us," one of them repeated once more. The other simply blinked, and blinked again - and the Doctor realised the Ood's eyes had turned red.

"Oops. That's not good," the Doctor said. "We'd better -"

He was about to say "run!" of course, but Tosh grabbed his arm, pointing at the heavy metallic door of the maintenance room. "Come on, if we can get this to move..." she said, and the Doctor and Gwen quickly joined her in the effort to close it.

"I'll hold them back," Jack said, and placed himself at the side of the doorway opposite to the hinge. Both red-eyed Ood were now staring at him menacingly.

The heavy, rusty door began to turn with a loud creak. One of the Ood lunged towards Jack, but he didn't just stand there and wait. Instead, he tackled the Ood, who crashed into the second one. Jack drew back, and the Doctor and the two women pushed the door shut. The Doctor pointed his sonic screwdriver at the door to make sure it stayed closed.

"Whew," Jack said.

"Great thinking. Brilliant, in fact," the Doctor said to Tosh, who smiled, nodded and thanked him politely.

"I told you they're good," Jack said. "So, care to explain now?"

"We should find the nearest exit first, I don't know how long they've got," the Doctor said.

"Oh, that's easy, I've been here before. This way," Jack said, gesturing at the tunnel to their right.

"So, the thing about Ood is," the Doctor began as they walked. "Basically, they have three brains. There's the one you'd call normal, inside their heads, like with many other humanoids, but there's also the hind brain, which is outside their body. They hold it in their hands. Then, there's the hive brain, the centre of their telepathic consciousness. Now, these Ood are thousands of years and some 1500 light years away from home, completely separated from the hive brain. To make things worse, two of these four are former slaves, who've had their hind brain replaced with a translation device."

"I've met a lot of aliens, but that sounds really weird," Tosh commented. "That evolution should even create such a system..."

"At least that makes it easy to understand that they're so lost and lonely it drives them mad. Can you really help them?" Gwen asked.

"I'll do my best," the Doctor said.

"Ah, here it is," Jack declared, and stopped, motioning at a ladder in the wall. He ascended it first, to push the manhole cover out of the way.

The Doctor climbed up after him, leaving behind the darkness and the harrowing song of the Ood. He found himself in a narrow side street, with a few people walking by, minding their own business.

Someone had stuck a familiar-looking note on the brick wall right next to where he stood. It read,
    
    
    Doctor. Now's the time. You'll know what to do.

He grabbed the piece of paper, and turned it around in his hands, but it was nothing more than that, just a regular Post-it note with a quizzical message. He looked at the brick wall again. Where the note had been, there were a few holes in the mortar, and he saw a glint of metal in one of them. The gap was so narrow that it took some effort to pull the object out, but finally, he got it. There it was, his TARDIS key. So much for solving that problem - except that it was still a complete mystery.

  


**5.**

Gwen was the last to climb up from the sewers. She blinked hard at the bright sunlight, barely able to see a thing.

"I don't get it," the Doctor was saying to Jack. "This just doesn't make any sense. If all they wanted was for me to stay here and help you, why didn't they simply ask?"

"Let me see that," Jack said. By this time, Gwen's sight had adjusted enough that she could make out the two men standing next to a wall, glaring at a small piece of paper.

Jack frowned. "The handwriting looks familiar."

"I don't recognise it," the Doctor said.

"Gwen?" Jack said. "What do you think?"

He handed her the note: a few words written on a yellow Post-it in blue ink, but - "That's my handwriting!" Gwen exclaimed. "But it can't be, since I haven't written that, I swear I haven't. I don't even understand what it means."

"Aah! Yes!" the Doctor called out eagerly, practically bouncing up and down with delight. "Yes, that's it! Now I've got it, I do know what to do. I was right all along, I just didn't realise it!"

"Right about what?" Jack asked, looking amused and puzzled at the same time.

"That, Gwen Cooper, that really is your handwriting," the Doctor said, beaming at her. "You just haven't written it yet. Except that you have, of course, since it's right there."

She stared at him, baffled. "What are you talking about? Time travel?"

"Oh, and you're bright, too!" the Doctor said happily. "Jack, are we far from the TARDIS?"

"If she's still where you left her, that's right around the corner. You'll walk there in five minutes."

"Great. You should return to the rest of your team. There's something Gwen and I need to do."

"Jack?" Gwen asked.

"Seems you've got a mission. Go on, it's all right."

Jack had barely finished giving them the directions, when the Doctor headed off, running. Gwen shrugged at Jack and Tosh, and ran after him, without the slightest idea of what was going on. She thought about all that conspiracy theorising Owen had done. The more she saw of the Doctor, the more convinced she became that Owen was wrong about him. She had seen his compassion for the Ood down in the sewers, his willingness to put his life at risk to solve this mystery. She couldn't believe he was dangerous, let alone evil.

They ran through and along several small streets, finally coming to a stop at a small parking lot. In one corner of it stood a blue, wooden box with "Police" written on it. The Doctor went straight to it, patted the surface gently, and said, "Oh, I missed you already. You knew what was going on, didn't you? That's why you didn't let me in. Clever thing." He unlocked the door, and stepped inside.

Gwen stared after him for a few beats, but when he didn't return, she decided to follow. She stepped through the door, into a room far bigger than the outside had suggested, and completely alien.

"So, this is your ship," she said, in awe.

"My dear old TARDIS, yes. Hm, honestly, I was expecting you'd be even more surprised."

"Oh, believe me, Doctor, if there's one thing I've learned from Torchwood, it's that nothing is impossible." Not that she had ever seen anything even remotely like this, but she couldn't say this was the strangest thing she'd ever seen, either.

The Doctor busied himself with pushing buttons, pulling levers and twisting dials on the contraption in the middle of the room, which Gwen took to be a control console or something like that. The ship rumbled and shook around them, and then settled again.

"Ah, here we are," the Doctor said.

"Where's that? Did we just move?"

"Yup. Not far, half a mile north and about six hours back. Should give us enough time."

"We travelled in time, just like that? Won't the monitors at Torchwood pick this up? There was a clearly noticeable disturbance when you first arrived."

"That was the TARDIS soaking up rift energy, a completely different energy signature. This will be nothing more than a tiny blip you'll ignore. Was a blip that you ignored, in fact, since it's already happened."

"I can't believe this." Gwen shook her head. "You're not just pulling my leg, are you?"

"You can see for yourself! Let's go," he said, motioning towards the door.

She placed herself between it and him. "Not before you tell me what's going on. If we really are back in time, why did we come here? Why am I here? To write that note?"

"Notes, plural. I found another one earlier, on the door of the TARDIS, and yes, you need to write those. But what's more important, you're also going to knock me out. Well, not me, as in, the me here and now, but the me from four hours back, who will be appearing in about two hours' time."

"But why me, why not someone else? Why not Jack, for example?"

"Because you wrote those notes."

"But I'll only end up writing them because you picked me!"

"Exactly! That's time for you, all tangled up and nonlinear and very confusing if you don't know it, like I do. Now, come on, we need to go and buy some carambolas."

"Carambolas?" she repeated, but he pushed past her and disappeared through the door. She shook her head. Every time she thought she was getting the hang of this, he said something that made no sense whatsoever.

They left the TARDIS to look for a grocery store. As far as Gwen could see, they really had gone back in time. The clocks, the newspapers, and the late morning sunshine of the unusually beautiful day were just right.

They had to go through several stores before they found one that sold the fruits the Doctor was looking for, which, he informed her, were needed, because they could be used to put his past self to sleep. They finally found their star fruits at a supermarket, where they also bought a blue pen and a sheaf of Post-it notes. She had to pay for them, since apparently, he had no money.

"Why do we have to go through all this trouble, though?" Gwen asked, once they were back in the TARDIS, sitting in the galley and pressing juice out of the fruits.

The Doctor peered at her over the rim of his glasses, as if she was being really thick. "Because this is how it happened."

"Yeah, right. But assume it didn't. If you could choose freely, why couldn't we just, I dunno, go and meet the past you, and ask you to stay here and help Torchwood?"

"Of course we couldn't! Although, you could. Right. That's actually not a bad question. Why couldn't you just reason with me? Oh, I know. You couldn't, because I would run away the moment I saw you. Wouldn't want you to see me, since you weren't supposed to. And even if you did manage to talk to me, I might not believe you. We can't just leave a note, either, I wouldn't trust it. Much too easy to fake. No, this way's more reliable. More exciting, too!"

"Fine," Gwen said, nodding as if she understood perfectly, even though she had almost no idea what he was talking about. At least he clearly did have his reasons. "That's why we've got to knock you out. Why carambola juice, then? Why not some regular sedative, or an alien one?"

"Well, it had to be this and not something else," the Doctor began slowly and thoughtfully, pointing a device about the size of a pen, with a bright blue light, at all the fruit juice they'd managed to produce. "Not just because this is what it was, is, and will be, but because if I had used something alien, I would've recognised it instantly. Your regular sedatives wouldn't do, but it had to be something from Earth, to keep me guessing. If I had known right away that I did this to myself, I - actually, I'm really not sure what I would've done, but it might have been a problem."

"All right. One more question: why am I here, really? Couldn't you have done this on your own? I mean, if you forget about the 'it's already happened and Gwen Cooper did it' thing again?"

"Crossing your own timeline is never a good idea. Hitting yourself on the head is a very, very bad idea. So, someone else has to do it. There." He poured the finished fruit juice concentrate into what looked like a syringe without a needle, and gave it to her. "You just bop me on the head and inject that right here," he pointed at a spot on his neck. "Well, obviously, not right here, as in - oh, you know what I mean! You've got about half an hour. Plenty of time for you to walk to where I first appeared, and do what you have to do. And don't forget to take the keys, and write the notes."

"Wait, aren't you coming with me?"

"I better not, it's safer that way. I'm sure you can handle this on your own."

"What if something goes wrong, though? Like, what if I accidentally hurt you?"

"Oh, I doubt you could do that even if you wanted to, I'm tougher than I look! Besides, I know you won't! I'm fine, see? You didn't hurt me. Hurry up, or you'll be late!"

Feeling about as confident as on her first day at the station, Gwen left the TARDIS and ran back to the parking lot where she'd first seen it. She got there just in time to witness the blue box materialise out of nowhere, accompanied by the recognisable sound she'd heard earlier. She crouched to hide behind a car.

A minute later, the Doctor stepped out of his ship, looking exactly like his near-future self. To her horror, she realised she hadn't considered the details at all - how was she going to knock him out? She looked around frantically. He was almost in front of her now. She spotted a loose stone in the pavement not far from her, grabbed it, and flung it forcefully at him. It collided with the side of his head, he keeled over, and stayed down.

She ran to his side. He was mumbling something indistinct, his eyes still closed, but clearly about to wake up any minute. Quickly, she pressed the syringe against his neck. With a faint hiss, it injected the bright yellow liquid into his bloodstream. He fell silent. Working almost on autopilot, cold and detached, Gwen went through his pockets, and found not one, but two TARDIS keys.

Only when she'd done everything she'd been supposed to do, she sat back on her haunches, starting to take it all in. The Doctor was completely still now, deeply unconscious, which was exactly what she'd been going for, but she felt worried, nevertheless. He seemed to be breathing all right, but what if she had given him a concussion, or an overdose, or worse? There was no way she could know for sure.

She stood up and looked around. Luckily, the parking lot was empty, no one had witnessed her unprovoked attack on him. No CCTV, either, as far as she could see. She pushed the flagstone she'd thrown him with under a car, away from sight.

Jack should arrive sooner or later, but what if he didn't? After a moment of indecision, she got out her mobile and made an anonymous call to the emergency number, letting them know she'd found an unconscious stranger. Just in case, so that there would be at least someone around to help him, if something had gone wrong.

Gwen still needed to write the notes. She'd seen the second one, but all she knew about the first one was that she was supposed to stick it on the TARDIS's door. She'd just have to think up the text on her own. She wrote a few sentences that were hopefully understandable, but mysterious enough not to give away everything.

After a ten-minute detour to the place where they would exit the sewers after meeting the Ood, where she hid one of the keys in the brick wall, she returned to the TARDIS. She still felt anxious. She had no idea what would happen - what would have happened - if something had gone wrong. Would he have disappeared? Or would there be a huge temporal disturbance of some kind?

At least the TARDIS was still right where she'd left it. She knocked on the door, and the Doctor let her in, looking no different from before.

"Hello again," he greeted her happily.

"Hi," she answered. She offered him the second key she had found on his past self's unconscious body. "You had two of these, and I didn't know what to do with this one."

"Spare key! Isn't that sparkly! I knew I had one, always do. Was wondering what had happened to it. Thank you. And thanks for everything else, too. Well done, Gwen Cooper."

"How do you know I did well? I haven't told you anything about it yet."

"I'm still here," he said, spreading his hands, smiling.

"You mean... I could've done something wrong, and you'd have..."

"Like I said, time's a very complicated thing."

"But I thought... How could you let me do it on my own, then? I could've killed you!"

"Oh, you could've done much worse than that, but that's completely besides the point, because you didn't. Now, then, time to return to where we belong - or, more precisely, where you belong."

  


**6.**

"Hey! What took you so long?" Ianto greeted Jack and Tosh as they returned to the crime scene. The relief on his face was plain to see - Jack knew he had hated being left behind, and he had obviously been worried.

Jack walked over to put a hand on Ianto's shoulder. "Just needed some time to take care of everything, that's all. No major trouble. Piece of cake, really."

"And what happened to Gwen and your 'Doctor Smith'?" Owen asked, the suspicion so heavy in his voice that Jack could practically hear the quote marks around the last two words.

"They stayed behind to deal with some unfinished business," Jack said vaguely. The truth was, he only had an educated guess himself. "I'm sure they'll show up soon enough."

"The most important thing is," Tosh added, "The case is solved now. There won't be any more deaths."

"What exactly happened, then?" Owen asked, still sounding dubious.

"We met the Ood!" the answer came in the Doctor's cheerful voice. Jack turned to see both him and Gwen approaching them. The Doctor looked absolutely exhilarated, but Gwen's expression was somewhat subdued.

"Met them, talked to them like civilised people, and now I'm going to take them home," the Doctor explained.

"So, everything's in order, and you're leaving again," Jack stated. It wasn't a question, because he already knew it to be true. He could see that glint in the Doctor's eyes, the enthusiasm for new adventures which were already waiting for him somewhere out there, among the stars.

"Yes, but we'll meet again soon enough," the Doctor said. "At least most of us. You have a good team, Captain Jack Harkness. Take good care of them." He gave Jack a serious look, which Jack couldn't quite interpret - until he remembered that the Doctor had said he hadn't been supposed to meet the Torchwood team yet. Maybe that was what he meant. Jack would have to take care of them, in more than one way.

"I will," Jack answered both the verbal question and the unspoken one.

"Well, then." The Doctor turned towards Gwen, and shook her hand. "Gwen Cooper. Thank you for your assistance." He looked at the rest of the team, and smiled. "Thank you, too, and adios." He waved his hand, and turned to leave.

"Not so fast!" Owen suddenly shouted. "Hold it right there. Turn around, slowly."

Jack was baffled to see Owen pointing a pistol at the Doctor, who spun around quickly, but froze and raised his hands when he saw the gun. "All right, let's just stay calm, everybody," he said.

While everyone else stared, dumbstruck, Jack's first thought was to leap forwards, to place himself between the pistol and the Doctor. Before he had moved as much as an inch, Owen cast him a sharp look and shook his head, the gun unwavering in his hand.

"No, you don't, Jack. None of that human shield business. You as much as twitch, and I'll shoot. I'm pretty sure you're not faster than a speeding bullet. Do you really want to give it a try? You know I'm a bit unbalanced these days. Hell, I've always been unbalanced. I will shoot. You know I will."

Jack raised his hands as well, and stayed still. "Okay, no sudden moves."

"Owen, are you out of your mind?" Gwen cried out. "What do you think you're doing?"

"I just want some proper answers."

"Great, ask away," the Doctor said. "Just put the gun down, first. You really don't need that. I'm much more talkative when people aren't making death threats at me."

"I don't think so. I don't know what you've done to everyone else, but you're not fooling me."

"I must be fooling myself, too, then, because I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Owen," Jack growled in a low voice. "You better have a really good explanation for this."

"As a matter of fact, I do, Jack. Look me in the eye, and tell me, honestly, that this man - this alien - is not the being known as the Doctor. You can't do that, can you?"

Oh, damn, that was what this was about. Jack should've guessed as much. "He's the Doctor, all right, but the rest of what you might think is plain wrong. I know what our files say, but they've got nothing to do with the truth. He's a good man. More than that, he's a good friend of mine."

"He's not like you think, Owen," Tosh said.

"It's true. He's not the enemy, he's one of the good guys," Gwen added.

"Like I'm going to believe you!" Owen snapped. "Gwen, you tell me, why did you stay behind with him? What did you really do?"

Gwen made a face. "Oh, you're not going to believe me, anyway."

"Just tell me the truth!"

"All right. Don't say I didn't warn you. We went back in time, so I could knock him out in the past - the past him, I mean, so he'd have to stick around to help us and the Ood. I also left him a few notes so he'd be able to figure out that we should go back in time to do this."

"What?" Owen said incredulously.

"The carambola juice. The reason you found me unconscious," the Doctor said. "That was our doing. I did it to myself. Well, she did it to my past self, because I asked her to."

Owen just stared at him, shaking his head.

"The thing is, the Doctor went through all this trouble just to help those Ood," Gwen said. "While all you're doing is proving to him that Torchwood is every bit as bad as he claimed earlier."

As they spoke, with Owen all dumbfounded and completely engrossed in the conversation, Jack slowly, stealthily inched closer to him, and finally, before he could react, stepped in front of him and the muzzle of the gun.

Jack placed a hand on Owen's forearm, and locked his eyes with Owen's. "Believe me, you don't want to shoot him. He's saved the Earth countless times, as well as more alien planets than you can name, during a stretch of history longer than you can even begin to imagine. I'd die a thousand horrible deaths to protect him. And this is no mind control talking, this is plain ol' Cap'n Jack Harkness. You can see and hear that, can't you? Put the gun down, Owen."

Owen let Jack take the pistol away from him, and lowered his trembling hand, his shoulders hunching.

"But I don't get it," he muttered, shaking his head, looking at a loss and slightly horrified, as the idea that he had been about to make a colossal mistake began to sink in. "I thought - his file..."

"An old misunderstanding," the Doctor said softly.

"All the way back from the time when the Torchwood Institute was founded," Jack said. "I've been trying to change it, but the long history makes it damn difficult. I'm really sorry for this, Doctor. Hardly the send-off I wanted you to have."

"It's all right, no need to apologise," the Doctor said, an unreadable look on his face. "You did nothing wrong, and he's not exactly himself these days, is he?" he nodded towards Owen. "Now, I really think I should go. Until next time."

The Doctor turned and walked away. No happy smile or hand-waving this time, let alone hugs. He didn't as much as look back once, just disappeared round the corner.

"Okay," Jack told his team. "Time to go home."

They walked to the SUV in a heavy silence. Jack couldn't help feeling disappointed, not so much in Owen as in himself. He should've seen that coming, should've done something to prevent it - but it was too late, now. All he could do was take care of the rest of what needed to be done, as best he could. Once they were back at the Hub, he would have to retcon everyone. The Doctor had said they shouldn't have met him yet, and Jack would see to that. As for Owen, since retcon wasn't going to work on him, he was in for a long and very, very serious talk.

**********

"We are very sorry for the trouble we caused," the first Ood with a translator device said.

"Yes, we apologise, and we thank you, most deeply and sincerely," the second one added.

The two Ood who couldn't speak in human words simply stood next to their brothers, raised their hands and joined the song ringing in the air all through the planet. They let the rest of their kind know that they had survived through this terrible ordeal, and were back home and all right now, thanks to the Doctor.

"Wasn't your fault," the Doctor said. "If there's anyone who can't be blamed for anything, that's you. I'm so sorry I couldn't save all of you."

He made his goodbyes, and returned to the TARDIS. Closing the door shut out the serene hymn of the free, content Ood-kind, which was just about right, because he didn't feel very serene himself, let alone content, even though his mission was complete now.

He'd taken some serious risks to rescue these Ood, foolhardy, even, messing around with his own timeline like that. He wondered if he would've done it for any random aliens stranded on Earth. He didn't think so. It wasn't just that the Ood were unique with their song and their strange biology. What made them truly special were the memories.

He'd first met the Ood with Rose, although he had failed them that time. The second time he'd met them had been with Donna, and the two of them had become their saviours. Oh, Donna. The Doctor-Donna, of whom the Ood would sing to their children. More than anything else, he had helped them because of her. So that even though she couldn't remember any of this herself, those who cherished her memory would go on.

He leaned on the door behind him and drew a deep breath. He was always lonely, but there were times when it felt overwhelming.

He didn't feel accomplished, he felt blank. Even in Cardiff, among those people Jack Harkness considered his closest friends, the Doctor had been unwelcome, a stranger, an outsider. He didn't blame them for anything. Owen Harper was dead, after all. No wonder he had acted irrationally. Everyone else had mostly been nice to the Doctor, really helpful, but of course they had, because Jack had made it clear to them that they should be.

Sure, things would have been different had he landed in Cardiff in 2009 instead, like he had been planning to. Everyone would have known him then, might even have praised him for saving their world. Maybe he should go there now, visit Jack and Ianto and Gwen, although Owen and Toshiko would no longer be there. Or he could always go to Martha, even Mickey - sure, he did have friends, but there were so many sad and dark memories associated with all those people that it would never be just a happy reunion. Besides, how many times had he already put his friends in harm's way, without meaning to? In the end, wasn't it better for everyone if he just stayed alone?

He shook his head and stood up straight again. Oh, there was no sense in moping around like this. He needed to move on. He had plenty of rift energy now, enough to send him to the farthest reaches of the universe. Keep on running.

Before setting forth towards all-new adventures, he decided he'd better figure out what had gone wrong earlier. Why had he ended up in early 2008 instead of 2009, in the first place? He brought up the log on the screen. As he went through it, he realised there was something very strange about the readings, something he hadn't noticed before, since he hadn't really looked. Only one thing in the universe could create an energy signature like that. That was no accident, nor a mistake. This mission wasn't quite finished, yet, after all.

He reached for the temporal stabiliser with his right hand, and hit the reverse polarity dial with the toes of his left foot. The TARDIS rattled and rumbled and shook as his motions sent her into a reverse loop-the-loop in the time vortex, going around and skimming her earlier trajectory, knocking the TARDIS from the past ever so slightly off the planned course.

Once the TARDIS had stilled again, just floating in the vortex in free flight, the Doctor leaned back and grinned smugly. There, all done. The pattern was complete. He had come full circle. The end at the beginning. Perfect!


End file.
